Please Don't Let Me Go
by realtrashwriting
Summary: The gardens of Camelot hold more than just the Queen's favourite flowers. They are also a place where young kings, when wracked with fear, can seek the comfort and peace of their princess.


**I wrote this before I read Book 4, so please excuse the canon divergent content. Thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own "The School For Good And Evil"**

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 **Please Don't Let Me Go**

Agatha found him sleeping on a bench, face drenched in the afternoon sun as he lay among the garden's towering trees and Guinevere's favourite flowers. Tedros' eyes, pinched shut, hid her presence from him. She'd intended to startle him awake as revenge for him scaring her the night before in the castle hallway (although she supposed he'd just turned the corner too quickly, and her reflexive punch in the shoulder was revenge enough). However, his discontent mutterings put that plan on hold. What she'd assumed to be his natural shying from the sun was something that looked much closer to his being in pain.

Tedros?" she called softly, a hand drifting to his shoulder before he jolted awake at her touch, sharp and vigilant with consciousness.

"Wha-"

"Tedros, are you okay?" she asked. Agatha wanted to reach out and hold him but was suddenly unsure of where she stood in that respect. She wasn't exactly the master of comfort for other people, nor had she ever really been a respectable source of comfort to anyone other than Sophie. On top of it all, Tedros and Agatha also hadn't quite been seeing eye-to-eye as of late, but Tedros seemed to have other plans for her as his hand jolted out to pull her in. She fell, sprawled along the bench half on top of him as he clutched her close to his chest. "Tedros," she gasped and would have pulled away if she hadn't felt the tears wetting the column of her neck.

He was crying. It was a soft, scared sort of crying, a kind she had never seen in him before.

"Agatha," he hiccuped, squeezing her ever closer. He pressed into her with a desperation that made her think he was trying to crawl into her skin. "Agatha."

"Hey," she said with a shaky voice. She tried to fit herself to him more carefully, adjusting her body so that she was better situated on the bench. Pale fingers ran up the smooth lines of his face to stroke his hair. "You're okay," she whispered. "You'll be okay." He cried into her skin, their legs tangled amid the little space they had. She thought of her mother coming to comfort Agatha after nightmares as a young child. And then she thought of this boy-king who had no doubt cried to himself since his father was hardened by his mother's disappearance years ago.

His arms had snaked themselves around her waist while hers cradled his head, gentle and soothing as best she could. Agatha was bad at this, she knew, but Tedros clearly wanted her there for now. Perhaps his mother would be a better source of comfort.

When his sobbing grew quiet, she shifted in his arms. "Tedros," she tried. "Should I get Guinevere? I can-"

"No, not her."

Agatha frowned. "Then-"

"No," he said, voice rough from crying. "Just you. I just need you."

"Oh." Agatha flushed, embarrassed at how vocal he was being. "Are you sure?" He tightened his hold on her, and she calmed herself. If she was to be queen, surely she could help Tedros a little more. "Okay then."

They lay together for a while on the bench, with Tedros' jacket a thin pillow beneath their heads. The sun pushed a leafy shadow across their legs and was crawling up Agatha's back when she chose to speak again. There was nothing left to hear but the slight hitch in his breathing to indicate that he'd cried at all. And so she spoke, trying to pull away and see his face.

"Tedros, look at me." He shook his head and squeezed her again. Agatha sighed and kissed the top of his head. "Please?"

"No," he said, but looked up anyway, his blue eyes reddened and tragic. How was it that he could weep so intensely but still look just as beautiful as ever?

Agatha kissed his forehead again, Tedros' sadness drawing out her affection. "Bad dreams?"

"The worst." She hummed, stroking at his hair. She didn't press but the words pushed their way out anyway. "I was back at school, and you were gone."

"That doesn't sound pleasant."

"It was like our second year. But this time, I knew you'd left me. They all had. I remember feeling that way back then; I was angry at you, at myself, at everything."

"Tedros…"

"And Aric was there, torturing me in the dungeons of that school. It was a bad time. I was reliving the whole thing."

He was starting to cry again, and Agatha's heart broke for it. "You're not there anymore. Do you…" she swallowed and continued carefully, "I mean, how much…"

"Too much." He hid his face. "The things he did, Agatha. I can't-" he paused, breath shuddering against her skin at just the memory. "It's like I can never forget them."

Her throat felt tight, and she mumbled apologies in between kisses. "I wish I could have stopped it. I wish it didn't happen."

"Me too," he said, "but it was part of your fairy tale. It had to happen."

"It shouldn't have," insisted Agatha. "Fairytale or not, you shouldn't have had to undergo that kind of torture. You didn't deserve that. I'd make you forget it if I could."

"That's a wish you can't grant, princess," said Tedros, looking up at her again and kissing the corner of her mouth, "but I'm better now. We're better. The person I was when that happened isn't the same man before you now."

"Man." Agatha snickered and blinked back her own tears. "You're not old enough to call yourself that."

With the tension broken, Agatha found her prince smiling back at her with a smile that matched hers. "Well, I'm a king now, aren't I? I think that makes me as much a man as any."

"Whatever you say," said Agatha softly, then with more thought, she said, "and Sophie was a big help in there, huh?"

"Back then, when she wasn't, um, a girl?" He flushed a little and squeezed at Agatha with reassurance. "Yeah, she was helpful. But thinking back on it, she was doing it for you."

Agatha couldn't stop herself from snorting out a laugh. "I want to say that I doubt it, but we both know the truth."

"We bonded. I'm not going to lie about that. She became a person who understood me when I was really suffering, but both of us… we mostly thought of you. I was so torn back then between wanting to forget you and being so angry at you and Sophie. But I couldn't just do that. And I kept having these dreams, the same dreams I've having now. I kept wishing you were there, wanting to know I could go to you because…" he trailed off, face going red. This time it wasn't due to the tears but due to what Agatha could only imagine was his embarrassment.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

"No, no, I just-" His head dipped down in thought before he met her eyes again, nudging his nose closer. "I love you, Agatha."

"You…" It wasn't the first time hearing him say it, but it never stopped Agatha from being filled with that same giddy happiness she'd felt when she heard those words.

"I felt safe. I feel safe with you," said Tedros, pulling her onto his chest. "You're just… better. And when I'm with you, I feel so much better."

"Even when we fight?"

"Everybody fights." Tedros took a shaky breath. "At the end of the day, knowing that I'm with you, that you're my True Love, I don't feel as messed up."

"You're not messed up."

He shook his head roughly. "But I am, though. I am, Agatha. And I don't feel as messed up when I'm here." He sighed heavily, the force of it pushing some of her hair behind her shoulders. "I don't want to go back."

Back to the castle. Back to the simpering counsellors and debts and stressors a new king with gifted with upon his coronation. "We're together now," said Agatha soothingly, "and we're going to be together. You can rely on me too."

"I'm sorry," he said, although somehow Agatha felt like that apology wasn't for the reasons she thought they were. She let it go, not wanting to disrupt this small moment of peace between them. She'd dwell on it another time.

"I'm sorry too." She smiled softly. "This is our future. It's a lot of work, but I knew that it was going to be work when we got here."

"Fairy tales shouldn't be more work after they're over," grumbled Tedros petulantly into her shirt.

"No, they shouldn't," she agreed. Agatha peeled herself off of him and stood. She stretched her arms first, feeling the satisfying burn of her muscles creep across her forearms and down her spine. She then flattened her dress that had bunched up at her hips and offered her prince a hand. "But it'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"We will." Tedros smiled at her weakly, and Agatha softened as he wove his fingers through hers.

Her and her prince. Hand in hand. Together against the world.

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